


first days of my life

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22403170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “What happens after this?” Aaron can't help but ask, knowing nobody really has the answer. The flashing lights grow closer, the sirens almost drowning the music out.“We meet on the other side, baby girl, then we live for real.” Alex sounds so sincere, and her eyes filled with nothing but love, and Aaron listens. Aaron always listens.
Relationships: Aaron Burr/Alexander Hamilton
Kudos: 5





	first days of my life

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be some huuuuge au fic but i never got around to actually finishing it. thought id post it anyways just cause lol

Aaron had a routine. Life was, is, a routine. The alarm went off when the sun came up, the sun came up when the alarm went off. The alarm always goes off. Aaron does not give it mind. That's usually step one on a path Aaron does not want to go down, has been told not to. She’s used to following orders, and she can say that about a handful of people. Maybe all people.

Aaron doesn’t mind her job. It’s not bad, it’s not good, it isn’t really anything. It’s just something she does, and sometimes she doesn’t. Death does not hang in the air, but maybe it had at some point. Maybe it should? How would that impact life as Aaron knew it? Would it change anything at all. Not that she’s thought about it, who has? Who will? The sound of the old printer, no doubtedly on it’s last leg, fills the small building, rather than conversation. She cannot recall her coworkers voices when she’s not around them, and even when she is it's a struggle, and their faces are a blur in her head. A lot of things might be. It might have clouded Aaron’s mind when she joined her firm, but she does not remember ever feeling sad.

She has a stack of cases (with numbers, but they are people. People with families, jobs, lives. Aaron does not like decided the fate of others, she wishes she could leave it up to the universe. Wishing does not do anything. Nothing changes. Nothing will.) on her desk every morning. The size of the stack varies, but the offenses, usually, do not. Stealing, lying, suspicious behavior, unauthorized materials, etcetera. That’s when she can focus, not really, but a little. Your mind is for one thing, her father’s voice sort of echoes in her mind, like there's nothing in there to begin with. An empty space, filled with a mediocre life, memories that never really feel your own, a false sense of safety and reality clouded her overall judgment to kee- she likes her coffee black, one sugar. The routine.

“Burr! Get to work!” Her boss yells every morning. Burr. Not Aaron. No matter what time she arrives, it’s get to work! Aaron does. Jefferson, Thomas, will nod sometimes. She cannot put a voice to his name.

She does not really give it thought, most of what she does just happens. The case is read, thinks of something to say, convict, repeat. People steal, people cheat, people deceive, and it's dealt with. They come in, Aaron talks, and then she leaves. She has the last words, it should be harder, but work is work. Work gets done.

Screaming does not bother lawyers, should not, not anymore. There are cameras in her office, in her coworkers office, her bosses office. The screaming doesn’t scare her (not anymore). What does she think about, when she has time to? The sky, maybe birds, cloud her thoughts. But, she cannot recall a single bird she knows. She didn’t have books on birds growing up. Some things she knows, some things she doesn’t. You get used it, she used to joke, but it does not make her laugh anymore. Aaron knew that going in, being an adult isn't easy. It’s just life, she says, and then it is not. 

Aaron likes things: the breeze, the sun, outside. She walks home when it’s dry, and when it rains, she runs. The faces she's seen that day escape her when she leaves that building. The cases stick, the words stick. 

“Caught stealing from local store.” Seven read, the rest are a blur. People know stealing is serious, but they continue. She wants to know what’s that important sometimes, but she knows she shouldn't. She’s a lawyer. She has bills. She has a life. Life.

Aaron likes music on the days she can. She works an odd schedule, which is fine, she likes (leaving her house, she likes fresh air, likes routine) going to work.

Music is not Aaron’s favorite. String instruments bring memories of a childhood spent with open windows, loud laughter, a family. A childhood that shapes a person. 

Aaron does not want her childhood back, there’s not really anything she does want. There are perfectly placed books on shelves that go untouched. Aaron waited, and watched, for days, weeks, years. There are words that Aaron doesn’t get: Science, Politics, History, and Math. She goes through almost all of them, and her family watches, hopes that Aaron choses right. A choice that should not be left to a child, but in hindsight, an adult should not be left to the choice either. There is no middle, child and then not. Is that fair? A lot of things are not fair, Aaron thinks, so she decides it’s settled.

Aaron’s home is not filled with books.

“A house is what you make it!” She’d heard, years ago, on tv maybe? The apartment, one bedroom and one bathroom. A house is bland walls, tan carpet, and doors to rooms that serve no purpose just yet. A house is not really anything at all, when you think about it, but you won't.

A painting red flowers hangs above her bed. The flowers, which she does not know by name, never catch the light quite right. The shadow of the curtains makes the blue paint looks gray. Some things bother some people, some things do not. The painting stays. Aaron feels normal? Fine? Fine.

Aaron takes the same route every day. She sees the same faces every time, she isn't really sure, she couldn’t pick anyone from a lineup ff she had to. Somebody, who is standing in the middle of the sidewalk, catches Aaron’s eyes. It shouldn't, she thinks, it's normal. As if the stranger can feel Aaron’s gaze, they smile at Aaron. Aaron doesn't think (doesn’t think, doesn’t wonder, doesn’t question, can’t question) and smiles back.

The windows are shut all day, all night also, but it is already dark. That is normal. Fine. Besides, Aaron doesn’t really want anybody watching her when she’s at home. There are webs in unused chairs, a table for four, mocking the fact the Aaron is alone in every sense. One side of the bed is unmade, one side of the closet is filled, one side of the table is ever used. It doesn't really matter when you don't think about it. Aaron swears she's heard that before, but some things blur. A lot of things blur.

Aaron meets Alexander again, on a sunny (It’s always sunny, the weather doesn’t change. Not really. It is not the weekend, but the weekdays all bleed together now. It isn’t Monday, maybe Tuesday?) day. A book about the past in her hand, shifting her eyes from the bak cover to the people in front of her.

“Mr. Burr, sir! My name is Alexander, and I’d like to speak with you.” Alex blurted out, waving her hand frantically. Aaron stops, almost dropping her book. Nobody really talks to her (besides Jefferon and Madison, but they don’t talk a lot. Aaron doesn’t really have friends, but she’s not lonely. Never lonely.) outside of work.

“It’s Ms. Burr. Is there something you need from me?” Aaron responds, her voice cold, empty. Not on purpose? She keeps walking. Alex, reluctantly, does not.

“Shit, sorry. Fuck. I just wanted to talk, I’ve heard of your work!” Alex informed, Aaron cocked her head in confusion. (Where?)

“I, uh, work for the newspaper. You’re in some of our stories!” Alex continues, probably taking Aaron’s silence as a signal to go on. She doesn't read the newspaper.

“If you’re free, I was wondering if I could interview you?” They chirped, voice still confident. Aaron stops, Alex stepping on the backs of her shoes, and considers it.

“I can do it now, if you want.” She suggests, and the look on their face is kinda worth it. Aaron walks again,

"They say I'm not normal. I think too much, have too much time to think. Maybe thinking is the only problem at all. It is only a problem to those who have never really thought. Your brain is not the enemy, Aaron. Why is it treated that way?" Alex pondered. Her voice strong, loud, the things it shouldn't be. Aaron was quiet, looking at Alexander with how.

"I could be the wrong person to tell this to." Aaron interjected. The I am goes unsaid.

"I am confusing you, aren't I? Making you nervous?" Alex finished. She kept her eyes closed, her face not towards Aaron in the slightest. Aaron does not ask how she knows.

"You're fine, Alexander." Aaron replied, the urge to listen overtaking her sense of almost everything else.

"Is being a lawyer something you enjoy?" Alex questioned, her face slightly twitches as her focus changed. Aaron shrugged. She did not have an answer, the question too fresh. How did she become a lawyer? How long had it been? 

"Do you remember when lawyers prosecuted criminals instead of killing them?" Alexander questioned, eyes closed with their face tilted towards the sky. To tell the truth, Aaron didn't remember. Her whole family had been lawyers. Her grandparents, parents, and now her. It had always been like this. Always? 

Had Alex been smiling the whole time? The sense of emotion so strong that her face was wide? Aaron wondered long had she been standing here, with Alexander, as the sky changed from a soft blue to orange. Fire Orange. Did she like orange at all? She did not know if seeing it bring her joy. Aaron was not quite sure was joy was, not really.

Alex laughed. It made Aaron feel something. Something.

“You should laugh more, it would suit your face.” Alex noted. Aaron wonders if Alexaner is original, unique, something else. Aaron worries, because Alex clearly will not.

Talk less, Aaron almost says, you’re too (something. You’re a breath of fresh air. You’re something new, special, important. You’re so happy, Alex. Please teach me how to be free. I am tired, but I am not sure of what I am tired of? Do you get tired, Alex? Is your life something I can only dream of, maybe wish for if I’m allowed? I want to be happy, something new. I do not want you gone, taken away forever, you are dangerous. You are smart, Alex, you’re too free.) loud. They’ve probably heard it enough, and Aaron does not want to be a bother.

The music is loud, too loud for the quiet Aaron is used to. She likes it. She has Alex in her arms, who is singing, dancing, and smiling. Alex is worth so much that Aaron doesn’t mind losing everything. There’s no doubt the neighbors can hear them, probably have the police on the phone right now, but Alex is still so happy and carefr-

“Stop worrying, just dance with me!” Alex laughs, breaking Aaron out of whatever spell she was under. Alex has that effect on people, she decides.

“What happens after this?” Aaron can't help but ask, knowing nobody really has the answer. The flashing lights grow closer, the sirens almost drowning the music out.

“We meet on the other side, baby girl, then we live for real.” Alex sounds so sincere, and her eyes filled with nothing but love, and Aaron listens. Aaron always listens.

The red is engulfed in red, a sad mockery of what’s to come. Aaron is not scared. Aaron is not scared when the room is engulfed in red and blue, Aaron is not scared when the door comes down, Aaron is not scared when she hits the ground. She turns her head, and Alex is still smiling, even with their face being pushed to the ground. Alex mouths (I love you? Maybe. Aaron can't hear, oh god, she can’t hear. She wants Alex. Her heart is racing an- is her face wet? Is that blood? She still looks at Alex. Sweet, perfect, smart Alex. She thinks of the sun, the breeze, being somewhere quiet with them. She tries to forget about the noise, but she’s stuck. Always stuck.) something. 

Aaron hopes Alex remembers her.


End file.
